


Thicker Than Water

by hernameinthesky



Category: Vampire Academy Series - Richelle Mead
Genre: Angst, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, but could be, technically not canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26728780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hernameinthesky/pseuds/hernameinthesky
Summary: He wonders if, had things been different, he might have done this after she stayed out too late at a party. Might have chastised her in the morning. He’s missed his chance.
Relationships: Rose Hathaway & Abe Mazur
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18
Collections: Trope Bingo: Round Fifteen





	Thicker Than Water

**Author's Note:**

> For the ‘amnesia’ square on my Trope Bingo card.

“The fuck’re you still doing here?”

The words are slurred, accompanied by squinty eyes and a head tilt as she stands in front of him, swaying slightly. Abe’s surprised she can string the sentence together and he’s certain she won’t remember any of this in the morning, so he takes his daughter’s elbow and tries to lead her to a chair before she can do something stupid, like fall into the bonfire. Usually he’d trust the Belikovs to take care of their guest, but most of them are as intoxicated as she is and the few that aren’t are lost in their own grief. Rose fights him though. The alcohol does nothing to sap the strength from years of training, but it does affect her balance and she almost careens into the table when she yanks herself away from him.

“I’m helping you,” he says exasperatedly.

She frowns suspiciously (she’s got sense then, just no sense of self-preservation). But she sits down, looking up at him with dark eyes that, despite being the colour and shape of his own, look like Janine’s. This might just be the expression though; the last time he’d seen Janine she’d been just as lost and almost as unhappy.

“How’s your mother?” he finds himself asking.

Rose blinks a few times, then shrugs. “How should I know?” She hiccups twice. The pieces come together slowly. Still impressive, considering the amount she’s drunk. “How do you know my mother?”

“We go way back.”

“Do you and Dimitri go way back?”

“No. I met him, hmm, twice? Perhaps three times. I’m a friend of the family though.”

She snorts. Sighs. Sways. He catches her shoulder to keep her upright and this time she doesn’t pull away. She watches the crowd around the fire - Irina Nikolayevna is talking now, telling stories of her schooldays with Dimitri - and he watches her. She has Janine’s pretty face, only painted in browns instead of reds. Her hair is unquestionably his. He tries to look past that, he doesn’t care about her outer appearance as much as what lead her here. Dark circles under her eyes from too many sleepless nights - grief, yes, but more? He knows how they work the novices, even in America. Does she have late classes? Does she enjoy them? A clear neck, thankfully, but then she’s in love with her mentor. Abe can’t decide which is worse. Tan lines on her arms. Does she love the sun the way her mother does? He remembers Janine’s hair glinting coppery bright, sunlight coming in around the curtain and slanting against her face.

She looks up at him again. She’s breathing heavily, tears brimming in her eyes. He doesn’t know how to do this. He never wanted to be a father.

But she’s crying and he’s the only one who’s noticed. He hauls her up and she doesn’t even try to stop him.

“Come on,” he says gruffly, supporting her into the house and finding his way to the kitchen. He sits her down and fetches her a glass of water, watches her until she drinks it all.

He wonders if, had things been different, he might have done this after she stayed out too late at a party. Might have chastised her in the morning. He’s missed his chance. A woman sits before him. She’s worked and loved and had her heart broken, has probably broken a few hearts too, and he’s missed it all. He doesn’t believe in regrets. But he does wonder what it might have been like.


End file.
